


Liquid Courage - an Avengers New Year's Eve Tale

by coulsons-hawk (allyoop)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Cute, Ensemble Cast, First Kiss, Fluff, Gen, Happy Ending, M/M, New Year's Eve, Romance, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-06 23:59:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1113075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allyoop/pseuds/coulsons-hawk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint absolutely no-way-nuh-uh has a massive crush on dashing SHIELD agent Phil Coulson. And no way does he want to ring in the New Year with aforementioned handsome agent's lips on his own. </p><p>What *is* true is that he really really feels like he needs another drink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Liquid Courage - an Avengers New Year's Eve Tale

He felt like he was chasing the white rabbit.   
And by chasing he meant drinking, and by rabbit he meant memories of his past year.

And mostly, he was chasing them  _away_.

-

Clint knew that coming to Stark’s Annual Ridiculous New Year’s Eve Gala would be a one way trip to crazy town, but he didn’t really expect to travel there so quickly. He’d been handed a strong drink as he entered and it magically didn’t seem to have a bottom. Clint was starting to feel the edges of his vision get that blurry quality he usually felt when really tipsy. And if that wasn’t a good clue, then the fact that he found himself in a corner watching Phil with increasingly stalkerish thoughts was all the indication he needed of his current drunken state.

He felt the heat rising in his cheeks even as he downed cold drink after drink. He was  _jealous_  of Phil’s jeans; dark-wash and snug, and having the distinct privilege to be hugging Phil’s ass in a way Clint had only dreamed about. He knew he was being ridiculous; he was envious of a _pair of pants_ but his vodka-vision was clouding his mind too much to allow him any clearer thought that “ _my hands should be on his ass like that. My hands and my-“_

 _“_ You know they have meetings for that.”

Clint’s SHIELD reflexes kept him from dropping his (most likely stupidly expensive) glass but a very indiscreet “fuckity shit” escaped his lips before he could catch himself. “Tasha what are you doing?”

"I’m helping. But really, Clint. It’s okay if you have a problem. The first step is admitting it."

"I - I don’t have a sex addiction!"

"I didn’t say that, but now that you mention it…"

Clint moved from the corner, casting a half-angry glare over his shoulder, but Natasha just raised an eyebrow and he trudged back over to her.

"What I  _was_  going to say, Clint, was that you should replace that drink in your hands with that ass in those jeans if you want to start your year right.”

"I’m not attracted-"

"Yes, you are-" 

"I don’t think-"

"Do it-"

"Its a bad-"

“ _Do it._ ”

They finished the rest of their argument in glares and downturned mouths, from Clint, and that resolute single raised eyebrow from Natasha. She wasn’t budging. And Clint was just as stubborn. But he had four more drinks in his body than her, and he was already one foot into a holiday-induced depression that left him feeling empty as the temperature dropped outside and his body ached for another to feel warm.

“ _Fine_. But I’m not cuddling just because I need a fire for my cave.” 

"Clint, what are you-" But he raised a (mightily unsteady) finger to shush her.

"Shhhh, drunk logic."

She just laughed, short and sweet, and Clint wished he was more sober to enjoy the rare moment. She slapped his ass as he sauntered off, whispering “ _If you got it, flaunt it,_ " as he passed. He knew what to do. Abandoning both empty glass and jacket on a nearby table, he sidled up to Phil, pushing his shirtsleeves up in the way he knew was  _le irrésistible_. Clint reached across them both, gently invading Phil’s space and brushed his fingers with Phil’s on the glass in his hand.

"Want me to grab you a refill? I was just about to grab another myself."

Phil gave him a big smile and Clint could have melted. He wasn’t sure how much was his crush talking or how much was the liquor, but Phil looked positively  _stunning_ in a simple blue button-up and dark jeans. He swore he heard birdsong and saw little fat cherubs swirl around his head.  _"It’s the drinks. Definitely the drink. I need another."_ Probably not the healthiest decision, but Clint sensed that he needed a bit more liquid courage if he wanted to follow through on his plan.

"It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?" Phil steadied Clint’s hands before he dropped the drinks. He had followed him to the bar, clearly unbeknownst to Clint. He peered closer at him. "How much have you already had?"

"Loosen up, Phil. It’s a party." He reached out, feeling bold, and played with the top button of Phil’s shirt. " _Loosen up._ " He popped the button out.

There was an awkward pause, feeling a hundred horrible years long in Clint’s mind. And then Phil leaned in, much too close, his breath hot against his neck as he took his drink back from Clint’s hands. 

"Let’s go to the roof. I hear it has a spectacularly _private_ view.”

Clint couldn’t climb those stairs fast enough, even with Phil’s hand like a tugboat dragging him along. They reached the top easily, only needing to bypass a few locked doors (“Stark should really change his security codes hourly.” “Didn’t Pepper tell you-?” “What Stark doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”). Clint could hardly believe it and his heartbeat raced with a lot more than the effort of a few flights of stairs. The moment felt heavy with possibilities. 

Clint stepped in front of Phil, leaning close with a smile, wanting to do the honors of opening the last door. “Let’s see what we have here.” And he pulled them both through. 

They bumped into something very solid and very warm.

"Clint! And Phil son of Coul! What festivities bring you to the roof of this fine building? Wishing also for a better vantage point to watch these Midgardian works of fire?" It was Thor, hand-in-hand with Jane, who was blushing with the air of someone interrupted.

"Oh shit, not you." Clint muttered. Phil jabbed him in the side.

"What Mr. Rude meant is that we’re surprised to see you up here. And yes, the countdown is minutes away and the roof seemed a good place as any to watch the fireworks."

“‘A good place’? It’s the best roof in town, so watch your mouth Coulson or I’ll have to stuff another one of those lemon cookies you like so much in there.”

"Stark?!" Clint felt the evening’s plan slipping away from him.

"Why so surprised, Barton? This is  _my_  tower you’re so freely roaming about.” He turned to Phil. “Pepper tell you the codes again?”

"A SHIELD agent never reports his sources."

"I’ll take that as a ‘yes’." He plopped a couple bottles of champagne on the cement in front of the group, pulling a handful of glasses magically from his pockets. "We’ll wait for the rest of the group before I pour us all some. Gotta ring in the new year properly after all."

"The ‘rest’ of us?"  _No no no, this was not happening, no not tonight._

 _“‘A Very Avengers New Year’_  we’ll call it. One for that ol’ scrapbook I know you have Barton.”

"Dammit, Stark. I just wanted one night with-" He stuttered. He may be drunk but he wasn’t drunk enough to show all his cards just yet.

"An evening alone with your handsome agent?"

Clint didn’t think he could ever get that red. He was sure a plane could land using his face as a beacon.

"You’re still  _holding hands_.” Stark laughed even harder as Clint, full of surprise, looked at his still-linked-in-Phil’s hands. “And even if you weren’t, we all know.”

Clint looked to Thor for support. “Alas, Tony is right. Your love for son of Coul has shown brightly since the first day of our meeting.”

"Jane?" Clint asked weakly. 

She shrugged politely. “It was pretty obvious, but I figured you’d say something when you felt the time was right.”

"Stark, you have anything stronger than that champagne? I think I need to drown my embarrassment in hard liquor." 

"Well, I do have my secret flask of- Steve!"

The roof door opened behind them and the rest of the team poured out. Steve shrugged apologetically.

"Bruce was off in a corner of scientists, arguing the physics of time travel on Doctor What or something. Took a while to drag him away."

"Aw, making new science buddies already Bruce? You replace me so fast-"

"No time for talk, Stark." Natasha pushed past them, carrying a tray of precariously balanced glasses. "Figured we needed more."

"Good timing! The countdown is about to start anyways."

And Clint could hear it. Echoing up the stairs of the building, the whole crowd was growing louder. There was less than a minute left and Stark was passing champagne around in a hurry and gesturing towards the side of the sky where the fireworks would appear. Phil squeezed his hand reassuringly, and Clint almost jumped, having forgot again that his fingers were still entwined in Phil’s. It felt so natural, so  _right_. 

"I agree." 

"I said that aloud, didn’t I."

"Doesn’t make it less true." Phil held up his glass with his free hand and Clint mirrored the gesture. With the sound of " _Ten! Nine! Eight!_ " around them, they clinked glasses together. "To a new year full of possibilities."

Clint smiled. Phil’s hand felt so warm in his. “To a new year full of hope.” 

Everyone screamed  _"One!"_  and Clint looked around at his team, his family, and couldn’t wish them any ill even if they were a bit of a cock-blocker. So many bright smiles, reflecting the colors and lights in the sky, all their pains and scars gone in the wake of a new year. It was beautiful.

Suddenly his hand felt cold. He turned to Phil, who cupped his jaw with his newly empty palm. There was a question in Phil’s eyes.

“ _Yes_.”

And they kissed. Warm and soft and so wonderfully  _new_. He could hear the cheering around him intensify, with a punctuated shout of  _"Told you so!"_  from Stark. It didn’t matter. Clint couldn’t hear anything but birdsong and Phil’s heartbeat in sync with his own.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Squeaking by with minutes left!
> 
> Happy new year's everyone! Have a great one!


End file.
